


In memoriam

by Gilli_ann



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon Universe, Gen, Melancholy, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 14:11:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: Although Minas Tirith rejoices after the war, there is also grief in the city.





	In memoriam

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters and places belong to the Tolkien estate.

In the convalescence weeks before the coronation the hobbits come and go at will, wandering through all the levels of the city, studying ancient grandeur as well as recent destruction. 

Sometimes they pass dark deserted mansions and empty courtyards. In one such they come upon a lone young woman, sitting hunched in the shadow of an elaborate stone fountain, not now bubbling with happy mirth nor with glittering water. 

She is dressed in plain blue, strings of lapis and golden beads adorning her tied-back dark hair. Her weary face bears tell-tale marks of many tears, the eyes painfully red.

She notices them, and then recognizes Frodo with a start.

With surprising swiftness she rises and moves to him, dropping to her knees. Before he can forestall it she gently takes both his hands in hers. Her sad brown eyes look directly and searchingly into his blue. Bending a little she softly kisses each of his hands, lingering for a moment over the mutilated one, even as a faint rosy blush creeps over her pale features. 

“I thank you,” she says, simply, once more looking into his eyes. "If not for you, their deaths would have been in vain.”

Releasing his hands, she stands up and steps back with head inclined, swiping at a stray tear, but otherwise looking quite calm and composed. 

After a moment of indecision, wondering what to do or say to ease her obvious sorrow, Frodo realizes that her pose signals a wish for solitude. Silently bowing low to her, he moves on, Sam following quietly behind. 

From the courtyard they suddenly hear a single sweet voice lifting in graceful song. The clear notes soar between cold and mute walls, whose very stones seem to marvel at this unexpectedly beautiful hymn of love and peace and remembrance.


End file.
